Like a photograph capturing a cold-blooded murder, Baker 3 offered a freeze-frame of relentless violence. Year after year, the streets of East Chattanooga, Avondale and Bushtown recorded the highest number of homicides in the city – many victims meeting their fates in the very neighborhoods they called home.
Such was the devastating misfortune of Deaaron and Dejyon, two brothers gunned down in the breezeway of Bayberry Apartments May 1, 2024. In a cruel twist of fate, their mother, Tiffany Triplett, was on the phone with Deaaron when the shooting occurred – and she heard the gunshots that ended her sons’ lives.
The killings of Deaaron and Dejyon marked the sixth and seventh homicides in Baker 3 – one of the CPD’s allocated patrol zones – over the past year. As police gathered at the scene and began the familiar rituals of another investigation, one thought echoed among them: This has to stop.
One year and one day later, police returned to Baker 3 – not to investigate a crime but to stand alongside community members and celebrate a milestone many might have considered impossible: Once the epicenter of violence in Chattanooga, the neighborhood has gone an entire year without a single homicide.
This achievement wasn’t the result of a spike in policing. It stemmed from community-driven efforts led by the Chattanooga Police Department and the city mayor’s office and was bolstered by broad support from local partners. A dedicated intervention team known as the 423 Chain Breakers – largely composed of formerly incarcerated community members – worked directly in neighborhoods to defuse conflict and prevent violence before it began.
“When we see violence, we run straight to it,” says Ricky Harper, a gang leader turned Chain Breaker, during a celebratory event at Avondale Community Center May 2. “My goal is to change the mindset of everyday people who think crime is a way to get respect.”
“This milestone isn’t about coincidence,” says Chris Sands, executive director of community safety and gun violence prevention in Chattanooga. “It’s about consistent, intentional work. It’s about showing up every day – resolving conflicts in real time, providing alternatives to violence and building trust where it’s been broken for generations.”
From policing to public health
Baker 3’s transformation began with a radical shift: Treating gun violence as not just a crime but also a public health crisis.
“When I took office in 2021, we knew we had to do something different,” says Mayor Tim Kelly. “Every shooting isn’t just a crime statistic – it’s a trauma that scars the victim, their family and the entire neighborhood. So, we founded the Office of Community Health and later the Office of Community Safety and Gun Violence Prevention.”
From the second office came the 423 Chain Breakers – an unconventional workforce rooted in the communities it serves. Made up mostly of men who once contributed to the problem, the Chain Breakers became key to the solution.
“They meet young people where they are,” Kelly says. “They use mentorship, accountability and love to turn lives around and build a safe Chattanooga. Their courage, compassion and love for their community is evident in the work they’re doing. It’s work that very few of us are willing or able to do, but they’re doing it every day.”
Boots on the ground
Nate Carter, 42, a four-time felon turned violence interrupter, approaches his work on the streets with clear-eyed conviction. “The grace of God brought me here,” he says. “I didn’t have to go out to the community – I am the community. I’ve done wrong here. So I came back to do right.”
Carter’s work involves mentorship, mediation and a visible, consistent presence in the lives of young people who might otherwise fall through the cracks. “They get stuck thinking, ‘I can’t do it because I live here.’ But I tell them, ‘You’re not a product of your environment, you’re a product of your choices. You can come from Baker 3 and still make the right decisions – decisions that can carry you all the way to the White House.’”
Growing up in the East Lake Projects, Harper learned early that credibility was currency. “I thought violence earned respect,” he says. “Now I teach life skills. I tell them, ‘You can chase street cred, or you can build a good credit score.’”
Harper’s journey from federal prisoner to college graduate with two degrees embodies the message he delivers daily: Change is possible.
One story from Harper’s time canvassing the streets of Baker 3 exemplifies the Chain Breakers’ mission to meet people where they are and offer solutions rather than judgment.
“I saw a young man crying in a breezeway. He and his brother hadn’t eaten in two days and he was thinking about robbing someone for food,” he says. “Six seconds of desperation could’ve cost him 60 years. So I took him to Little Caesars instead.”
The revival of Baker 3 hasn’t been the work of one group alone – it’s the result of a citywide effort reaching far beyond the Chain Breakers. Faith leaders, schoolteachers, police officers, city officials and volunteers have all played roles.
Events like block parties, healing circles and peace walks have replaced vigils and sirens. Local clergy have helped secure job placements and transportation for those trying to turn their lives around.
“This isn’t just the absence of violence,” Sands says. “It’s the presence of peace. That’s an important distinction.”
From pilot to movement
The Chain Breakers began as a pilot initiative, funded and supported through the Office of Community Safety and Gun Violence Prevention. They now work in over a dozen schools, serve free meals, host weekly youth events with hundreds of attendees and offer mentorship to young people and adults. Real Talk Mondays serve as a kind of “street therapy,” where people come not to be judged but to be heard.
“This streak needs to become a movement,” Sands urges. “We can’t afford to become complacent.”
A recent homicide in another Chattanooga neighborhood served as a sobering reminder: violence hasn’t vanished – it’s only in retreat. But crucially, it has shown that retreat is possible.
“Our work is just getting started,” Harper says. “Zone Baker 3 is a model. We want to take this across the city – every zone, every street. Imagine 365 days of no homicides citywide.”
What comes next
Sustained progress will require continued investment. The Chain Breakers have proven that those closest to the problem can also be part of the solution. But they need the public, policymakers and private sector to invest in jobs, education and long-term support systems.
“This work is hard to quantify,” Kelly admits. “It’s easy to count arrests or shootings. It’s harder to count the fights that never happened and the lives not lost. But today is our proof. This is countable. This is success.”
Carter sums up the ethos of the movement in a way that resonates with quiet resilience: “We take the future one day at a time. If tomorrow could talk, it would say, ‘Yes, you’ll face adversity. But you must go on.’”